


we are all going forward (none of us are going back)

by peachxi (peachi3)



Series: A Little Wicked [3]
Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, OT7, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26404279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachi3/pseuds/peachxi
Summary: based on the prompts:'ANYTHING OF THE TAEMIN' and 'Demon Taemin having trouble communicating his feelings And being lowkey insecure/ more withdrawn  and lovers noticing and knowing'//probably can't be read without knowledge of the ALW verse
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Lee Taemin, Kim Jongin | Kai/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Lee Taemin/Lee Taeyong, Lee Taemin/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Series: A Little Wicked [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789525
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	we are all going forward (none of us are going back)

**Author's Note:**

> this was born of me procrastinating while I've been sick. I should be working on assessments but (´ ∀ ` *) I needed a break. 
> 
> this doesn't affect the main story at all, but I know a lot of people would like more Taemin content so this is just one of many planned! It explores a little bit of the effects of the events in Bloodlines on Taemin, considering how reserved he is. I hope you enjoy, especially those who sent in the relevant prompts ♡
> 
> (title is from 'Snow and Dirty Rain' by Richard Siken)

Feelings had never been his forte. As a child he’d been too wild, too unpredictable, too emotional — so he learned to turn it off. Easier said than done, certainly, though Taemin had often wondered over the years whether he’d been able to do so only because of the blood that ran through his veins. The blood of . . . no, not his father’s blood. Not his father’s _magic_.

There were more days than he’d like where his monster of a sire wormed his way back into his thoughts and left him troubled, but those days they rarely ended with that same, defeated acceptance he’d grown used to. Taemin had done things he wasn’t proud of. He’d done things he should’ve felt remorse for, but didn’t. He was not his father, though, and he was more than what his father had made him.

The blood flowing through his body was his own, as was his magic, no matter where it’d come from; he was more demon than human these days, but then again, had he ever truly been able to relate to humans in the first place? His humanity was a fickle thing that rarely reared its head. Taemin knew the form it took these days, though, and that form was those he loved. They were his better half, or, in his case, the only decent part of him.

To lose them would be to lose the only redeemable part of him.

They’d given him all he could ever want and more. He had a home. People who loved him. People who he trusted with his life. Because of them, he could walk through the city streets and not evoke looks of fear or distrust; children would giggle and stare as their parents waved rather than hiding them away from the monster wearing a human disguise. He no longer incited terror in the fear of those he came across. Taemin wasn’t sure how he felt about being idolised, either, but he’d come to realise he preferred this extreme over the alternative.

He’d never thought he could have this, even if as a child it was all he’d ever desired — to be treated as something normal. Something _good_.

The Taemin of ten years ago would be disgusted with how weak and soft he’d grown, but . . . well, he pitied that version of himself. It was not emotions which made one weak — he knew that now.

Still, he’d never been good at feelings, and it was hard to forget years of habit and learned behaviour. Taemin knew how proud of him they were for the way he’d gotten better at communicating with them, but it wasn’t perfect. The words didn’t get caught in his throat anymore when he’d whisper how much he loved them. The ‘L-word’ was no longer terrifying. The nights when he wasn’t in the mood he had no shame in admitting it and would either leave them to have their fun with a few parting kisses or stay and watch. When he was _hungry_ , he asked for what he wanted.

But the nights when his mind would run rampant and he’d awaken in a cold sweat he’d slip away before anyone could notice, and the days where his skin crawled and the thought that some of the magic inside him was that same, warped energy which he so despised was enough to make him physically ill. Even now his throat burned with acidic tang left behind by his breakfast; it’d tasted a lot worse on the way back up.

Maybe it said a lot about him that, rather than being disgusted by the things he’d done, what made him sick was knowing he could never escape his father.

Bile started to rise in the back of his throat again and Taemin closed his eyes as he tried to force it back down — he doubted there was anything left to throw up, anyway. As a near-demon, it was practically impossible for him to actually fall ill to anything, yet he’d learnt a long time ago there was nothing more powerful than the mind. It could convince you of anything. Make you feel things that weren’t there. Make you physically ill, to mirror the state of your thoughts.

It spoke to how distracted he was that he didn’t even register the fact that he had company until a warm hand slid up over his shoulder, pinky overlapping the edge of his shirt and brushing against his skin. He flinched ever so slightly before he realised it was Baekhyun, but even then he had considerable trouble forcing some of the tension from his shoulders.

Some days he didn’t want to be touched at all, but this wasn’t one of those days. No, today he wasn’t reluctant to relax because he didn’t enjoy the reassurance, but because he was so desperate to just be held that he was terrified to let himself fall.

They didn’t need this. Things were good. They were happy. He couldn’t ruin it. He didn’t want to worry them. It was his job to look after them, not the other way around, not after—

“Taemin?”

The warlock blinked slowly before forcing himself to inhale once he recognised the burning in his chest was from a lack of oxygen and tried to school himself before he angled his head towards the other. “Mm?”

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” He took a moment to try and guess what his human would’ve been talking about but he didn’t want to risk getting it wrong.

“Sorry, Baek. What were you saying?” Taemin felt like his voice was perfectly even, his words chosen carefully, yet for some reason when he spoke the slight furrow between Baekhyun’s brows shifted to a deeper crease. He opened his mouth, then paused, then _cursed_.

“You’re not having a good day, are you?” His whole body froze as soon as the question reached his ears and he instinctively moved to pull away a little as his pulse jumped. He— how? He’d been so careful not to let anything slip, to keep his worries to himself, to not bother them with this. “Shit— look, we didn’t want to say anything and make you uncomfortable, but Taemin . . . you don’t need to hide something like this from us,” the other murmured. He felt utterly naked under his gaze.

“It’s nothing,” Taemin tried to reassure, but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

“When Lucas has a bad day, do you tell him it’s nothing?”

No. No, of course he wouldn’t. When Lucas had a bad day he tended to drop anything he had planned and instead turn all his attention onto his lover. Some days they’d stay inside and Taemin would spend countless hours reading stories to the younger in a soft tone as Lucas rested with his head in his lap. Other days they’d all take the time to spend a day together, whether it was in the castle or somewhere else.

“What about if Jongin has one of his hissy fits? If Taeyong has a patient that goes downhill? If I’m upset over something? Do you say it’s nothing?” Taemin pressed his lips into a tight line and let out a huff through his nose before giving a forced shake of his head. No.

“Exactly, so how about this — if you really do want to be alone right now, we can do that, but if not then we’re going to get up, fetch our boys and go for a nice, long walk. Sound good?”

And, as much as he hated to admit it, it did. As much as Taemin had grown fond of the interesting personalities which had inserted themselves into his life since he’d settled here, they could often be too much, especially when he was having a bad day — the idea of just him and his lovers was an attractive one. So yes, it did sound good, but the last thing he wanted to do was give Baekhyun the satisfaction of admitting so. He stayed silent for a few stubborn moments before answering with a barely perceivable nod.

It was never easy to let go, even in the arms of his lovers, yet Taemin found it impossible to resist in moments like this. He watched as Jongin and Lucas rolled around in the meadow like children, laughing and teasing each other as they playfully grappled and fought. He couldn’t remember what they’d been arguing about but no doubt it’d been something equally as childish — either way, it meant there was a serene smile on his lips where he was leant back against the truck of the magnificent hawthorn behind him.

He’d known of this place — Jongin and Taeyong’s meadow — but he’d never ventured here until they’d returned home. Whilst he’d always still see this place as something special for those two, he couldn’t deny that it’d become more of a _them_ place over the past few months. It was somewhere secluded, private, away from all their responsibilities and the expectations that hung above them whenever they were within the city walls.

Long, defined arms wrapped tighter around him and Lucas let out a puff of warm air against his throat. “How’re you feeling, hyung?” The frenzied, pained monologue in his mind had lessened to little more than a whisper which, sometimes, could be drowned out whenever he found himself slipping more. There was no tightness in his chest, no sick, crawling under his skin. Instead, the gentle breeze washed over his skin and the sensation of Taeyong picking at the loose thread on the bottom of his pants moved through the forefront of his mind.

“Good,” he purred as he let his eyes flutter closed. “Relaxed.”

“Enough to talk about it?” Taemin let out a low chuckle but didn’t tense despite the initial jolt of nerves. Instead, he angled his head to the side to graze his lips over Lucas’s forehead.

“No, not today,” he murmured softly, “but another day. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you all have a wonderful day ♡
> 
> you can find me on:
> 
> twitter - https://twitter.com/peachxi1  
> cc - https://curiouscat.qa/peachxumars
> 
> I don't have a beta, so apologies for any errors!


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